Mutual Friends
by aliasfluffyone
Summary: What's a few secrets here and there? Clem has always kept their secrets, even the ones they don't know about. Mid outlaw days, late November 1875.
1. Heyes

Disclaimer: Alias Smith and Jones does not belong to me. This is fan fiction, not for profit.

Any references to people, places, businesses, etc. are entirely fictitious.

A/N – story presumes the details on the wanted posters are not entirely accurate. Story exists in the same No Amnesty - Smith and Jones story verse as previous stories.

Mutual Friends

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Jed," chuckled Clem as she pulled her old green dressing gown closer across her chest, "you're falling asleep."

"Huh? 'm not," Bleary blue eyes blinked. Kid was determined to remain awake. The twenty-one year old pulled his long legs in close to the pink tufted sofa. The pile of blankets beside him wobbled precariously as he struggled to sit up straight. "I heard every argument you and Heyes made about that decent man book."

" _Descent of Man_ ," corrected the dark haired woman. "And we weren't arguing about that book, we were merely discussing the merits of Blackwell's critique…"

Heyes brought the coffee pot to the dining table and topped off both Clem's cup and his own. The outlaw mastermind smirked as Kid's eyes glazed over while Clem continued talking.

"Remember Kid, I read the article in _Popular Science Monthly_ ," encouraged Heyes, "at the hotel in Cheyenne last week."

The slender man settled the coffee pot back on the big black cast iron stove. Returning to rejoin Clem at the dining table, Heyes loosened the black string tie from beneath the crisply starched white collar of his dress shirt. His gray waist coat was already unbuttoned and the matching coat hung from the back of his chair.

"I was referring to the article in _The Women's Journal_ ," sniffed Clem.

"Same article," grinned Heyes, "just a different magazine, different readers."

The hazel eyed woman reached out her tiny hands to wrap her fingers around the steaming cup. Clem lifted the cup and held it in front of her chin, inhaling the aroma. She took a sip, and closed her eyes, savoring the warmth.

"Yeah Heyes I remember that magazine," yawned Kid. He stretched both arms overhead. Dust streaks across the once white shirt he wore showed signs of his busy day. "That lady author was a bit long winded, but she got it right at the end."

"Huh?" asked Clem.

The petite brunette thumped down her cup and turned back to stare at Kid. The tired young man rubbed his eyes.

"Men and women have to cooperate, work together," answered Kid with another huge yawn. He leaned forward on the sofa, resting his elbows on the knees of his jeans. Kid shook his head, moving his hand upwards. He rubbed his fingers through his curly hair as if to clear his sleep fogged mind. "Didn't think much of what those fellas Darwin and Spencer…"

Kid stopped speaking as another involuntary yawn overtook him.

"Jed," suggested Clem with soft throaty laugh. "Admit it, you're exhausted. Why don't you go to bed?"

Kid glanced longingly towards the open doorway. Clem's big brass bed beckoned. Her cozy home only had two rooms, the main kitchen living area and her bedroom. The pantry was really just an overgrown closet that led to the back door. Even with bedrolls and extra blankets, the hard wooden floor would be uncomfortably cold for Kid and Heyes to sleep on since the sudden cold snap.

"Are you sure?" asked Kid.

"Yes," insisted Clem. "You and Heyes sleep in my room tonight. I'll curl up on the sofa."

"Yeah Kid," teased Heyes, "you need your rest after all that banner hanging you did today."

"Hanging banners wouldn't be so hard on the back, if a body only had to do it once," grumbled Kid as stood up. He stretched once more before moving slowly away from the sofa. "It was the climbing up ladders, hanging banners, climbing down, climbing back up, taking down banners, climbing back down…"

Kid stumbled through the doorway still muttering about the difficulties involved with hanging banners. The younger outlaw pushed the door shut behind him. The sound of a boot thumped against the floor, followed by another.

"Before he gets too comfortable, do you need anything for in the morning?" asked Heyes. "In case you wake up first."

Clem glanced at the neatly folded clothing in the straight backed chair by the door. For Saturday morning chores, she wouldn't be wearing hoops tomorrow. Her serviceable blue housedress covered the unmentionables. Blankets and a pillow were already on the sofa. Clem's mouth dropped open.

"Ah! My hairbrush," replied Clem.

The twenty-five year old man pushed back his chair and hurried to the bedroom door. Heyes entered her room. Kid's shirt was already draped over the nearest bedpost. The muscular fast draw looked up in surprise as he hung his gun belt over the shirt.

"Heyes!" protested Kid. "I'm gettin' undressed here."

"It's a little late for modesty Kid," reminded Heyes with a soft chuckle, "you had a bath in the kitchen just a few days ago."

"There were bubbles!"

"I just need to get Clem's brush," murmured Heyes.

Long fingers deftly retrieved the brush from Clem's dresser top. Heyes backed out of her bedroom pulling the door shut once more. Returning to the table, strategist laid the brush beside Clem's hand. Their fingertips touched as Clem reached for the brush. Both hands drew back at the unexpected connection. Clem reached for her hairbrush again as Heyes moved to the other side of the table.

"Thank you Heyes," said Clem. Her cheeks flushed a becoming shade of pink. Sounding slightly flustered, she added, "You hardly touched your dessert."

"Oh, uh, yeah," responded Heyes, for once at a momentary loss for words.

The dark haired man sat down again and forked another bite of his pumpkin pie. He chewed determinedly. How could they go from talking easily about _The Sexes Throughout Nature_ one minute and now be feeling awkward over a hairbrush? Heyes swallowed and spoke again.

"Glad I missed the decorating," smirked Heyes. "Miss Emerson and Miss Thompson surely did put Kid through a workout. How many times did he have to reposition all of those banners?"

"Hmm. There were twelve banners," Clem pursed her lips a little as she thought. "Millicent and Eloise took advantage of Jed's offer to help. They had him up and down those ladders, arranging and rearranging the decorations at least three or maybe four times for each banner."

"No wonder Kid's tired," chuckled Heyes.

"Now what did you do today?" asked Clem in a nonchalant tone. "You can tell me. Unless you were casing the Denver mint or the First National Bank..."

"Clem," Heyes protested, widening his dark brown eyes in an attempt to look innocent. "You know I'd never…"

The snort that erupted from Clem's mouth was definitely not ladylike.

"Alright, I would, but not with you living so close by," agreed Heyes with a shrug. He leaned forward with a conspiratorial wink. "I don't suppose you feel like moving to New Mexico or Arizona any time soon?"

"No," huffed Clem.

Clem raised her eyes to the ceiling. Heyes was reminded of the school play, years ago, in Valparaiso. Fourteen year old Clem had a flair for the dramatic then, and now.

"I'll just have to stay and keep Denver safe from the Devil's Hole Gang," replied Clem with what seemed to be a long suffering sigh.

"The good folks of Denver don't know how lucky they are," smiled Heyes.

Clem's laughter joined in with his. Heyes set his fork down on the now empty plate. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his crisp white shirt and rolled up his sleeves. The slender man stood up from the table and began to gather the dirty dishes. Clem started to stand as well, but Heyes shook his head.

"I'll get the dishes," offered Heyes. "You just relax and brush your hair."

Clem leaned back against the chair. Her lips turned up in a small smile as she began to brush her long dark tresses. Heyes carried the dishes towards the sink and added hot water from the kettle on the stovetop. He glanced over his shoulder at Clem. For a second, he allowed himself to fantasize. What would it be like to have a normal life? Dishes to wash. Books to read. A wife, maybe a baby sleeping in the next room.

"You boys are welcome to stay for the church social tomorrow night," reminded Clem.

Heyes shook his head. The fantasy gone in an instant.

"And then stay for church on Sunday, where we meet all your neighbors? And hope they don't know us?" asked Heyes. He pushed his long, straight hair back behind one ear, revealing his wide sideburns. "You know we can't stay Clem."

Clem's rosy lips pouted in disappointment. She placed her hairbrush back on the table.

"You two boys need to get out of the outlaw business," stated Clem without any attempt at theatrics.

"But we're so good at being bad," smirked Heyes.

"Heyes! That's not funny!"

"Don't you think I know that?" asked the genius in a soft voice.

A soft sigh from Clem was followed by another question.

"Why don't you two get honest jobs?" asked Clem.

There were so many different ways to answer. The economic slump that started in 1869 had gotten worse with the failure of the Jay Cooke Bank in New York two years ago. Other bank failures followed, rippling westward across the country. The Northern Pacific railway was in bankruptcy. Honest jobs were hard to find. And the ability to crack a safe wasn't exactly in demand.

"An honest job would interfere with my poker playing and whisky drinking," replied Heyes with a dimpled grin that belied the seriousness in his dark eyes. At Clem's indignant huff, he added, "You'll have to ask Kid for his reasons."

"I will," declared Clem. "You know Jed tells me everything."

"Everything?" challenged Heyes. His cousin could be stubbornly reticent on private matters. Heyes still hadn't heard the truth of what had happened in Texas while they were apart. "Are you sure?"

Heyes wiped his hands on the dishtowel and sauntered towards the bedroom door. He twisted the knob, allowing lamplight from the little round table by the sofa to spill inside. The Kid shaped lump beneath the double wedding ring quilt didn't stir. Heyes glanced back at Clem.

"Haven't you ever gotten yourself in a situation where you can't see anyway out?" asked Heyes.

The suddenly stricken look on her face told Heyes the answer to his question, but then vanished, replaced by a sweet smile. Clem batted her dark eyelashes, a danger sign in Heyes' opinion.

"Whatever are you talking about?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-


	2. Clem

Disclaimer: Alias Smith and Jones does not belong to me. This is fan fiction, not for profit.

Any references to people, places, businesses, etc. are entirely fictitious.

A/N – story presumes the details on the wanted posters are not entirely accurate. Story exists in the same No Amnesty - Smith and Jones story verse as previous stories.

Mutual Friends

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Good morning," greeted Clem the next morning.

The petite brunette looked over the spice jars and the big yellow earthenware bowl sitting on the square oak table in front of her. Clem only caught a brief glimpse of Heyes, snuffling, still dressed, and lying face down across the top of her big brass bed, before Kid softly shut the door.

"Morning," greeted Kid in a low tone. "Didn't know you were up already."

A dusky red shirt, drawstrings open at his throat, covered Kid's chest. His gun belt hung from his shoulder. With a swift, sure motion, Kid pulled the gun belt down, buckling it at his waist. The tall blond tied off the holster around his right thigh. Kid moved past her toward the back door off the pantry. A short path outside led to the outhouse and beyond that curved towards the barn.

"Coffee is already made," informed Clem.

"Clem," replied Kid with a flash of a smile as he grabbed his sheepskin coat off the hook by the door, "I'll be right back, just give me a minute first."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Heyes was still sleeping when breakfast and the dishes were done. Clem poured her carrot cake batter into a cake pan and settled it carefully in the black cast iron oven. She swatted Kid playfully with a kitchen towel as he dried the last of the coffee cups.

"Thanks for finishing up the dishes," chuckled Clem. "Now how about helping me peel some potatoes?"

"Told you I would help," replied Kid. He picked up the paring knife, and asked with seeming nonchalance, "Have you heard from Deanna recently?"

Clem blinked in surprise. Soft whispered morning conversation between the two old friends had mainly focused on the partner's impending departure. Her attempts at prying hadn't worked, but now Kid brought up Deanna on his own. While he began to peel away thin narrow strips of brown potato skin, the gentle outlaw stared determinedly at the vegetable, not meeting Clem's eyes.

"Recently, hmmm, let me think," dissembled Clem. She fluttered her hand in front of her face. "Why do you ask?"

"We had a bit of an argument the last time I saw her," answered Kid still looking at the potato. Blue eyes looked up at Clem. "She up and left Wildwood without even saying goodbye."

"An argument?" asked Clem in a surprised tone. "What on earth about?"

Deanna hadn't said anything about an argument. Clem listened as Kid explained, but her thoughts were on the first week of May.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 _"What are you doing here?" demanded Clem in surprise._

 _"_ _Aren't you gonna ask me in?" the bedraggled woman asked without answering Clem's question. "It's pouring."_

 _Clem opened the door wider and grabbed the taller woman by the wrist pulling her inside. Two summers ago, when Clem had travelled to Wildwood, she had met Jed's inamorata, in addition to the Devil's Hole Gang, and Lom. Thinking Clem might be jealous, the brash saloon gal had assured Clem that there was nothing serious to her relationship with the young fast draw. An appreciation for a certain young blond shootist, as well as a shared dislike for the new Comstock laws, seemed an unlikely foundation for friendship, but that was the best word Clem could find to describe her relationship with Deanna._

 _"Why aren't you in Wyoming?" continued Clem._

" _I can't stay in Wildwood anymore," answered the sporting woman._

 _Clem's stomach plummeted. The twenty-two year old stopped dead still in the center of the room and looked up at Deanna. The normally vibrant thirty year old had blue shadows beneath her brown eyes._

" _What happened?" quavered Clem. "Jed?_ _Heyes_? _Are they captured? Injured? Not, not…"_

" _No!" replied Deanna. "Nothing like that."_

" _Then what?" demanded Clem._

 _The taller woman's dark brown eyes met Clem's. Deanna untied her thick wool cloak. The damp fabric of her travelling dress clung to her body, outlining the small bump on her lower abdomen. Clem gulped._

" _I've saved some money, enough to keep me until afterwards, when I can find work again," answered Deanna. "I hope you will help me find a place in Colorado, and I don't want Kid to know where I've gone."_

" _I thought you," stuttered Clem, "I mean you… you… you know about womb veils, and male sheaths, and… and…"_

 _"They don't always work."_

 _"_ _What did Jed say when you told him?"_

 _"_ _I didn't tell him, and you better not either," replied the woman firmly. "I don't want Kid, or anyone, thinking this baby is his. This child is mine."_

 _Clem knew a con when she heard one. Deanna was a working girl, but her reputation as Kid Curry's favorite tended to discourage other men from seeking her favors. There was no doubt in Clem's mind as to the identity of the baby's father._

" _You didn't tell Jed?" Clem's voice shrilled. "Why? You can't expect me to keep this a secret!"_

" _Not even if it will keep him from getting killed?"_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"I told her it ain't exactly safe getting involved with an outlaw," concluded Kid in a soft voice.

"So let me get this straight," huffed Clem putting her hands against her hips. "First you told her she was getting fat. Then you told her she was getting old. And last you told her you would marry her if you had to but if she married you she would probably get shot!"

Silence. For a moment, the young man gaped at the angry woman.

"Not in them words," answered Kid.

He shifted his stance from one foot to the other as Clem continued to glare at Kid.

"I mean, not exactly."

Kid stared at Clem. His ears started to turn red. The quiet man set the last peeled potato in the pot of water atop the stove.

"I'm beginning to see why Deanna threw the bottle of rose water at me," conceded Kid finally.

Clem heard Kid mumble something about horses as he moved away from the stove. The tall blond hung up the dishtowel, grabbed his coat and stalked out the back door. Clem stood breathing hard, tiny hands balled into tight little fists. She turned to see Heyes leaning against the bedroom door frame with his arms folded across his chest.

"How long have you been standing there?" huffed Clem.

"Long enough," answered Heyes.

"You've been here a week, and it's just now that Jed tells me about Deanna leaving," steamed Clem. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"If Kid wants to talk about Deanna, that's his business," replied Heyes quietly. "Not mine."

"I can't believe Jed…" started Clem.

"The Pinkerton's raid on the James family farm last January had a lot of folks upset," interrupted Heyes in a tight, low voice. "Especially folks in our line of work."

Angry words died on Clem's lips. She remembered the newspaper accounts of the raid. Clem shivered. Unclenching her hands, she crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed, trying to warm herself against a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the late November temperature.

"Is that what Jed meant when he told Deanna it wasn't safe?" asked Clem in a softer tone.

"You'll have to ask him," answered Heyes. "I didn't hear everything that he said."

Heyes straightened up and strode across the room. He reached for the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. A tentative sip of the now tepid coffee was followed by a grimace.

"According to the papers, the explosion at the James place was an accident," reminded Clem. "The Pinkerton's plan was to capture the James boys, murderers, not…"

"I'm real glad to know they didn't plan to kill a nine year old boy and permanently maim a woman whose only crime was being an outlaw's mother," cut in Heyes. He gave a rueful smirk. "Makes it kinda hard to tell the good men from us bad men."

"You're not bad men!" objected Clem.

"I'm not quite sure the folks at the banks and railroads would agree," replied Heyes with a sardonic smile.

Clem had no love for either bankers or railway magnates, although in an indirect way she had to thank them for meeting Curry and Heyes. Expansion of the Peoria and Oquawka railway had ultimately led to the construction of the Toledo, Peoria & Warsaw Railway and devoured the Hale family home in the process. The bank foreclosure on her childhood home led to Clem and her father moving to Valparaiso.

"You could be good at something else! Anything else!" exploded Clem. "Is this really what you planned to be when you grew up?"

"We didn't plan on being outlaws," answered Heyes with a mocking smile, "that just sorta happened."

Clem swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth. She understood. Clem hadn't planned on introducing Deanna to her cousin Charles either. The introduction, and everything else that followed, just sorta happened too.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 _Deanna was still staying at Clem's home two days later when a carriage appeared in Clem's front yard. At least it wasn't raining as Clem walked outside to meet her unexpected visitors, her cousin Attorney Charles Everett Hale and his assistant Malcolm Merriweather._

" _Tell me you haven't been run out of Central Springs," greeted Clem trying for a light tone._

" _Nothing like that Clem,_ _" answered Charles as he hugged Clem. "We've got business in Denver and then heading back home. Perhaps you wouldn't mind having us as dinner guests?"_

 _Clem felt her cousin stiffen in surprise and realized he was looking over her shoulder._

 _"_ _And introducing us to your friend?" added Charles._

 _The next several days passed quickly. Charles and Malcolm spent their days in Denver and had supper every evening with Clem and Deanna before returning to their hotel. It wasn't until the men started discussing their departure Friday, that Clem realized something was up. Clem was surprised to see Charles reach across the dinner table and pat Deanna's hand. Malcolm smiled encouragingly._

" _I know we can help each other," smiled Charles. "Think about it."_

 _Charles and Malcolm both rose from the table with apologies for their early departure. And then Charles raised Deanna's hand to his lips and pressed a light kiss to the back of her hand._

"W _e'll be back in the morning before we leave for Central Springs," repeated Charles. "Only you, me and Malcolm will know."_

" _And Clem," reminded Deanna._

" _What do I know?" asked Clem in confusion as the men departed. Clem turned to Deanna. "What is going on?"_

" _Charles asked me to marry him," answered Deanna._

" _What?" exclaimed Clem. "Why? I know you don't love him!"_

" _It's not about love," responded Deanna._ " _Marrying Charles is about security. Charles offered me and my child a home."_

" _There are other options, better options," pleaded Clem. "Jed would…"_

" _No!" insisted Deanna. "I told you Kid can't…"_

" _He would!"_

" _I know, he would," replied Deanna softly, with a small shudder._ " _He would stay. And then someday, someone would come, with guns, and he would be gone forever."_

 _Clem swallowed. Was this really what her best friend's lives were like? After the Midwest Railroad robbery last month, the reward on Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes had soared to an astronomical one thousand dollars each._

" _I won't be the one that gets him killed," added Deanna in a firm voice._

" _You could stay with me," offered Clem softly. "Usually no one comes around, it would be safe…"_

 _"No. I don't want Kid to ever find out,_ _" interrupted Deanna._

 _"Charles never does anything out of the goodness of his heart!" exclaimed Clem. "Why is he offering to marry you? To take care of you and your child? "_

 _"Your cousin needs the respectability a wife and child will bring. People gossip about a man his age living alone, and sometimes they gossip about Charles and Malcolm," explained Deanna. "Marrying him is a good deal, for both of us."_

 _The next morning, Charles and Malcolm arrived to pick up Deanna. A brief stop at the magistrate's office in Denver was planned for a civil ceremony._

" _Don't tell anyone," reminded Charles as he hugged Clem goodbye. "It will be our little secret."_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"I keep telling Kid he oughta go to Montana," continued Heyes. "Change his name and settle down with some pretty little lady, start raising a passel of kids."

"And leave you in Wyoming? And me in Colorado?" asked Clem incredulously. "You know he'll never do that!"

Heyes arched an eyebrow up and didn't say anything for a moment.

"You could go to Montana too," suggested the dark haired Kansan.

Was it Clem's imagination, or was Heyes holding his breath?

"Only if you go as well," replied Clem.

"Now that sorta defeats the purpose," replied Heyes with a small smile.

The bangs on her forehead fluttered as Clem huffed in frustration. Maddening. The man was maddening. She wasn't even going to try and figure out what he meant by that. She glanced towards the back door. Jed still hadn't returned.

"Heyes, watch the cake for me please," asked Clem. "I've got to go find Jed."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Clem followed Kid's big boot prints across the frost covered yard. She opened the heavy barn door and allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness. In the rear of the building, Kid stood with his back turned to her. He brushed his big black gelding and didn't appear to have heard her enter.

"Jed," called Clem in a soft voice.

The brush stopped, hovering above the horse's withers. Kid didn't turn around.

"What do you want Clem?"

The tiny brunette crossed the barn until she stood directly behind Kid. She stepped closer, leaning into his shoulders, wrapping her arms around his waist. Turning her head sideways, she pressed her cheek against his sheepskin coat.

"I'm sorry Jed," said Clem. "I shouldn't have raised my voice, I wasn't angry with you."

"Sure sounded like it," grumbled Kid, but Clem felt the tense muscles beneath the coat relax.

"No, I was just frustrated," explained Clem. She wasn't going to tell him most of her frustration was directed at Deanna. Jed knew about the baby! "I know you meant well, but that had to be the worst proposal I've ever heard."

Kid dropped the horse brush and twisted in her arms as he turned to face her.

"That's what you told me five years ago in Texas," reminded Kid.

Clem loosened her grip on his waist with a soft smile and gazed upwards into his blue eyes.

"Your proposal to me was pure poetry compared to what you said to Deanna," chuckled Clem as she remembered the skinny sixteen year old Jed, returning with a handful of flowers, stammering, _"I guess it's only fittin' that we get married."_

"And how many proposals have you heard?"

"A few," responded Clem lightly, "you don't think I just sit around here pining away for you boys when you and Heyes are gone. Do you?"

A soft chuckle rumbled from deep inside Kid. Clem traced one finger in a circle upon his chest.

"I don't want to be someone's wife or mother, not now, maybe not ever. I want to be me," she continued, "Jed, feeling as I do, I couldn't possibly marry anyone."

Kid's hands found their way to the small of her back. One hand stroked upwards, reaching her shoulder. Clem's lips parted as Kid lowered his lips to meet hers. The kiss, was long, slow, lingering and tasted of coffee and sweetness. When Kid pulled away, Clem was breathless. She licked her lips and opened her hazel eyes to meet his blue eyed gaze.

"Now what was that for?" asked Clem.

"To say thank you," answered Kid. "And maybe to see if you might change your mind."

Clem started to open her mouth, but Kid put a finger to her lips, shaking his head with a gentle smile. She realized that he already knew the answer hadn't changed. And Jed was still alright with it. They were friends first, lovers once upon a time, and still friends now.

"Thank you for what?"

"Thank you for being honest with me, and caring enough to tell me that it wasn't ever gonna work," added Kid. "Clem, you're the most honest person I know."

Clem sucked in a deep breath. She didn't miss the implication his words made about the past three years with Deanna and what it said about Clem's own silence in the matter now. She shivered.

"You're cold," murmured Kid. In an instant, his sheepskin jacket was off and draped over Clem's shoulders.

"Jed," started Clem, fully intending to blurt out everything.

"No. If there was a baby, Deanna has done something by now. Ain't nothing gonna change that," interrupted Kid as he tugged the sides of his coat closed over Clem's tiny frame. "Deanna was right about one thing, Kid Curry ain't gonna be anybody's husband or father. I shouldn't have let myself forget that."

The barn door opened. Heyes stood silhouetted in the sunlight, a shadow on his face. Clem couldn't make out his expression.

"Clem," called Heyes with a little hitch in his voice, "I think your cake is burning."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Clem stood by the front door, her heaviest woolen shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She stayed there in the cold watching as Curry and Heyes rode south. It wasn't until she couldn't see them anymore that she returned to the warmth of her front room. Clem seated herself at the tiny round table near the sofa. From the recessed drawer, she methodically withdrew an ink bottle, paper, and a pen shining with a new brass nub. She tried to control her shaking hands, tried not to blot the ink as she addressed the envelope… _Mrs. Charles Everett Hale._ She reached for the paper next and began to write.

 _Dear Deanna,_

Clem stopped writing and rested her head against her hand for a moment. What to say? All Clem really wanted to do was scream at the woman. However, politeness was necessary if she wanted to maintain a relationship with her cousin and his wife, if she ever wanted to see Jed's child. Clem picked up the pen again.

 _Our mutual friends stopped by on their way south. You will be happy to know that both are well. I'm looking forward to seeing you and Charles at Christmas and getting the opportunity to hold little Riordan…_

Clem stopped for a moment, closed her eyes and took another deep breath. Little Riordan Everett Hale needed parents and a safe home to grow up in. Like Charles said, this faux marriage would provide protection for all involved. It was a good deal.

"Jed," muttered Clem as she picked up the pen again, "I hope you and Heyes never find out about this little secret."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-


	3. Kid

Disclaimer: Alias Smith and Jones does not belong to me. This is fan fiction, not for profit.

Any references to people, places, businesses, etc. are entirely fictitious.

A/N – story presumes the details on the wanted posters are not entirely accurate. Story exists in the same No Amnesty - Smith and Jones story verse as previous stories.

Mutual Friends

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Clem's home was barely out of sight when Heyes twisted in his saddle to face Kid.

"I heard some of what you and Clem were talking about this morning," stated Heyes.

Kid didn't say anything as his black gelding ambled alongside Heyes' chestnut, but he wondered just exactly what part his partner had heard.

"You haven't been moping about Deanna," continued Heyes.

"Already told you that," reminded Kid keeping his tone level.

"Might not have been a baby," continued Heyes. Then with a rush of words, his partner added, "And if there was a baby, it might not have been yours."

Kid's eyebrow went up. He reined in his horse, pushed up the brim of his brown hat and stared at his partner in astonishment.

"What difference would that make?" asked the broad shouldered blond. "If there was a baby, mother and child still need to be cared for! A woman in the family way, without a family, needs help."

"I just don't want you moping…"

"I ain't moping!"

Kid nudged his horse forward. The partners rode on without speaking for a few minutes, the only sound the thump of hooves on cold hard ground.

"Kid," prodded Heyes, "Deanna was wrong..."

"Heyes," interrupted Kid, his voice sounding cold and hard to his own ears, "we ain't talking about Deanna no more."

Heyes shut his mouth. Kid had to stop this line of talk before it tore him apart. Jedidiah Curry had been raised to think that a man was supposed to help women and children. And when a woman he cared for needed his help, Deanna wouldn't allow it. The horses continued southward at a steady walk. It was nearly twenty minutes before Heyes spoke again.

"Kid, she…"

"Heyes," interrupted Kid, "I said we're done talking about Deanna. I made a mistake of spending too much time with her and it ain't gonna happen again."

"You're giving up on women?" asked Heyes with an incredulous tone.

"No!" snorted Kid. "I just ain't gonna spend so much time with any one woman."

"I'm not quite sure how that's gonna help," responded Heyes, with a quirk of his lips. "In fact, it might make matters worse."

Kid glowered at his partner. The two men rode along in silence for a moment.

"And I bought some more of them male sheaths," added Kid.

"From the saloon on Twenty-First Street?" asked Heyes, one eyebrow rising upwards. "The one with the painting."

Kid nodded. The saloon keeper did a clandestine business in preventative devices. And the painting above the bar, of a nude woman reclining on a sofa, arm thrown back obscuring most of her face, was renowned in certain circles.

"Well breaking the Comstock laws isn't likely to get us in any more trouble than what we've already been doing," conceded Heyes.

Kid didn't bother to dignify that comment with a response. The partners continued riding southward. The sun was directly overhead when they decided to stop by a small stream to rest the horses and take a break. A quickly built campfire, water from the frigid stream, and coffee was soon ready. Heyes unwrapped the white butcher paper and handed Kid a piece of Clem's carrot cake to go with the coffee.

"Mmm," murmured Heyes as he bit into the cake. "Even burnt it tastes better than most."

Kid wasn't quite so sure he agreed, but coffee washed the blackened crust down well enough.

"When you went into town yesterday, did you get Clem's Christmas gift, like we talked about?" asked Kid.

"Kid, you were right, the Bently and Company store on Larimer Street had all sorts of household goods. I had the clerk roll up the biggest rug they had," said Heyes. "There was an extra charge for delivery."

"How much for delivery?"

"Three dollars!" huffed Heyes.

"Three dollars!" exclaimed Kid. "And they call us thieves? We've been robbed!"

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End file.
